The house rises

from the pale autumn light

with white and dark

shutters

windows seethe from every activity

within, a vibrant light

yellowness & there are

no stairs

there is no escape

only opposite of clean grass

instead of the hidden safety of night

there is

daylight

there are dogs barking wildly

there are cats hissing

with ragged pelts

there are

walls stripped of curtains

letting the sun in

corners are plastered with

posters & pink paint

 

the house is

torn apart by things, unclean

things, unorganized

things

stuffed animals that are monsters

the bathroom faucets pouring endlessly

out of the sink &

onto the floor

the ceiling so low

 

one’s head breaks with

every step

clothes in the closet

(baby clothes)

the beds groan from nightmares

pillowcases & barricades

blows exchanged

(in the dead of night)

it is

humid and hot

there is no AC

 

& at night thunderstorms pierce

the sky with blows of

death

2 second

pauses of deafening destruction

 

Cold air slinks past my arms

the evening

falling

through the cherry trees

Photo by Nick Kenrick.

CC BY-SA 4.0 Fear 1.1 by Monika is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

2 Comments
  1. Christopher 1 year ago

    Dear Monika,

    I am intrigued by your poem because it sounds just like a short book my class read not to long ago. The book was about a person attempting to kill an old man. This poem relates to the book because it talks about fear getting the best of you. This is a similar situation except in the old man’s point of you. The title of the short story is called “The Tell-Tale Heart” by Edgar Allen Poe.

  2. Martin 1 year ago

    Fear 1.1…A good story.

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